I walk a fine line between this world and fantasy Every thing people see I see differently Come through the door & take a journey with me

Monthly Archives: February 2012

Sex a topic most keep behind doors, some have it over the Internet. Others, like Kyle, write about it! Stories containing sex, love, want, need, power, submission, and even death, a true blog to follow. Check out this post and more of his, you wont regret it.
Sorry no Artist of the day today, shit hit the fan, so Dark Writing coming soon, I promise!

I thought about writing about one of those sexual fantasies that I’m kinda ashamed of, like having the woman I love make me watch her get fucked by another, better endowed, man and then have her watch me get fucked by him, but then I thought “No. I can write up a dirty fantasy any day of the week. I can go deeper than that.” So, what better way to bare my sexual soul than to tell you all what a slut I am and then to tell you to all fuck off!

Sorry for not posting an artist of the day yesterday everyone. It terned out to be a very hectic day. But I am very happy to say I hit a record yesterday, 99 views for one day! Thank you to all my readers!

She started her graffiti career in 1979 after the loss of a boyfriend who had been sent to live in Porto Rico after he was arrested. She worked through her grief by tagging his name all over the city. Soon after she started to use the name Lady Pink. The name was inspired by her love of historical romances, England, the Victorian period, and the aristocracy. She studied at the High School of Art & Design in Manhattan. While attending the school she was introduced to graffiti. This was when she was 15, when she lost her boyfriend, and started tagging.
Within a few years she began running with TC5 (The Cool 5) and TPA (The Public Animals) crews. She was soon well known as the only female capable of competing with the boys in the graffiti world.

Lady Pink painted subway trains from 1979 through 1985. In 1980, at only 16 years old she was included in the landmark New York show “GAS: Graffiti Art Succes” at Fashion Moda, which traveled in a modified form downtown to The New Museum of Contemporary Art.

Young, approachable, quick-witted, and one of the only female graffiti writers, Lady Pink became among the most photographed and interviewed graffiti artist of her time.

In 1983, 19 years old, she appeared in theaters in the starring role in Charlie Ahearn’s fill Wild Style as Rose. That same year she worked on a series of large scale paintings with artist Jenny Holzer, The two have since collaborated many times.

So while she was still in high school she was already exhibiting paintings in art galleries, by twenty-one she mounted her first solo show “femmes-Fetales” at the Moore College of Art & Design in Philadelphia.

After 1987 she took a hiatus from painting outdoors, but she returned in 1993 after meeting her future husband, fellow graffiti legend SMITH, with whom she collaborates on murals and commercial work.

Lady Pink’s studio paintings often incorporate images of New York subways weaving and winding through decaying, POP-surrealist cityscapes. They have been widely exhibited throughout the United States and abroad.

Lady Pink is one of the leading participants in the rise of graffiti-based art. Her canvases have entered important art collections such as those of the Whitney Museum of Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, the Brooklyn Museum, and the Groningen Museum of Holland. She has established herself in the fine art world, her paintings highly prized by collectors.

Today she continues to create new paintings on canvas that express her unique vision. She also shares her 30 years of knowledge and experience by holding mural workshops with teens and actively lecturing college students throughout the northeast.

I have only been nominated but there is no reason why I can’t take the steps now and nominate others.

In order to claim the Kreativ Blogger Award here’s what I and the next lucky recipients need to do:

1. Thank the blogger who gave you the award and provide a link.2. List 7 interesting things about yourself that your readers might find interesting3. Nominate 7 other bloggers, provide links, and let them know!

1. I am 25 and I still have nightmares, almost every night. But I don’t always see them the way most would, I drawl inspiration from some of them. I may not have used the ideas, but they are there ready and waiting.

2. I once wrote a poem for my creative writing class in 9th grade that scared my teacher. I wish I still had it to share, probably one of my best. At that time it had only been a few years (I can’t remember how long exactly) seance the columbine shootings. I can’t remember the exact parameters of the assignment, but I did my poem on that subject, from the shooters point of view. I have always been able to place my self in the mind of another, someone I have never meant. So as some one who had suffered the torment of my pears for years, it wasn’t all that hard. Lets just say that when I read my poem to the class not only did I get a grate response from them, but my teacher pulled me aside at the end of class to ask if I was planing to shoot up the school. 🙂 That made me laugh.

3. I don’t think I am interesting at all 🙂

4. My mind never stops moving. Even during intimate times (You know what I mean) I have half a dozen things swimming around up there. Its a pain in the a$$.

5. I surprised one of my teachers in middle school one day by reading a paper on her desk upside down. I can read upside down and backwards, because I am dyslexic, but adults in my school wouldn’t test me because they didn’t believe my parents.

6. I have been through such bad experiences in my life it was thought I would end up with severe mental illness. Things that would and have damaged people to the point of drug abuse, mental illness, and even suicide. But here I am, you can say I am a little crazy but its who I am. I overcame the things that happened to me, and came out stronger on the other side. I know I am not the only one to ever do so, but its a personal triumph for me to prove the masses wrong.

7. The people I love and care about think I am more talented then I do. But I know I should think the same as them. I won more awards for art and writing when I was in school then I can remember. I paint, tattoo, sketch, write poetry, and I am working on a novel, But I know no matter how much I do I can learn more, do more, be more. So I can’t bring my self to believe.

Now for my nominations, the blogs I enjoy on a daily bases! Check them out, you may love them as much as I do!

Banksy has his hands in many artistic treasures as a pseudonymous England-based graffiti artist, political activist, film director, and painter. His artistic works of political and social commentary have been featured on streets, walls, and bridges of cities throughout the world.

According to the author and graphic designer Tristan Manco and the book Home Sweet Home, Banksy “was born 1974 and raised in Bristol, England. The son of a photocopier technician, he trained as a butcher but became involved in graffiti during the great Bristol aerosol boom of the late 1980s.”

Banksy is known for his contempt for the government in labeling graffiti as vandalism, as such he displays his art on public surfaces such as walls and even going so far as to build physical prop pieces.

Banksy does not sell photos of his street graffiti directly himself. However, art auctioneers have been known to attempt to sell his street art on location and leave the problem of its removal in the hands of the winning bidder.

Banksy’s first film Exit through the gift shop, billed as “The world’s first street art disaster movie” made its debut at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival. The film was released in the UK on march 5, 2010. In January 2011, he was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Documentary for the film. Now who said “The world’s first street art disaster movie”? I think its safe to say they where wrong.From Banksy’s page http://www.banksy.co.uk/ :

Frequently asked questions

Is it cheating to use stencils?
Stencils are good for two reasons;
One – they’re quick ; two – they annoy idiots.

Why are you such a sell out?
I wish I had a pound for every time someone asked me that.

Is Banksy just a big brand these days? Do you even paint your own pictures?
It’s not supposed to be a brand, which is why people in advertising think it’s such a good one. I paint it all myself unless its illegal, in which case I’ve never seen any of it before, your honour.

Are you still friends with Mr. Brainwash?
I like to think so. When I asked him what he thought about the film he said “This is a cult movie, this is a classic movie, this movie stands alone – like The Godfather.”

Did you paint over Robbo’s piece and have him beaten up?
His piece in Camden had been dogged for more than five years by the time I painted that spot. It’s a real shame about his accident and I hope he fully recovers. I would never deliberately cuss Robbo – he’s a graffiti legend.
And he’s bigger than me. Click Here

Did you rip off Blek le Rat?
No, I copied 3D from Massive Attack. He can actually draw.

Do you need an intern?
No thanks.

Why are you so annoying?
It’s not all my fault, sometimes they make it up – I’ve never vandalized a war memorial, painted Kate Moss’s kitchen or visited the Playboy club with Ashley Cole wearing a skull mask.

What artists do you rate?Käthe Kollwitz is my favourite. Partly because her drawing style is so beautiful, and partly because she thought being an artist was self-indulgent crap and became a doctor in an orphanage instead.

Can you donate a picture for my charity auction?
What are you? Blind? In which case maybe. I mostly support projects working to restore sight and prevent eye disease. Or as I like to call it ‘expanding the market’.

I put this post up yesterday https://artfulhelix.wordpress.com/2012/02/24/shale-my-mined-explode-now-helix/ I got likes, but no comments yet. But I want to know if I am going in the right direction with this book. So Please if you have the time go and read my first chapter and tell me what you think of it. I have been getting rather discouraged lately. I need to know what real readers think! Thank you for your time.

Brusby was born in 1974. He became a graffiti artist at the age of 14, inspired by films and books documenting the sub culture of New York. He developed the tag “sense” which evolved into what he does today – Xenz (pronounced “zenz”)

Brusby practiced graffiti art for 20 years, developing a unique approach to the well known art form.

If I may say so. He has beautiful work with true depth, color, and invoking feeling. He is now one of my favorite graffiti artist I have seen.

(origin of quote unknown) He has said and I must agree “I paint stuff that floats and stuff that flies, on a mission to capture the ethereal vision behind my eyes”

His early paintings where inside the derelict warehouses of Hull in Yorkshire England. This encouraged a very experimental approach to graffiti, to the point that the simple word graffiti no longer sufficiently describes what he does.

His imagination shows through in the landscapes he paints, using a spray can to capture fragments of memory and ever changing subjects, often drawn from the natural world and enhanced in his eye.

He lived in Bristol where he painted many pieces alongside one of the UK’s longest standing and most respected graffiti crews TCF( twentieth century frescos), He was one of three in the group, and artists such as Banksy, Inkie and Massive Attack’s 3D.

Quote from his web site (about TCF) “I painted with two friends called Eko and Paris, we were known as “The TCF Crew”( twentieth century frescos). If we had a vision we painted it, we did the wackiest stuff possible and really tried to be unique. We expanded our influences and started exploring different styles of painting even sculpture and printing, we always pushed each other’s ideas as far as possible being critical and particular about ideas and aesthetics sat in a small bedroom in the cold North Eastern part of England in a city called Hull.”

Xenz has been shown in exhibitions and art fairs in the UK, Miami, New York, Basel, Ibiza and Sydney. He has had sell-out London solo shows, and his limited edition prints are in huge demand. His work is in private and corporate collections worldwide. He studied at Edinburgh College of Art. He lives and works in London.

So today, before I do my artist of the day, I thought I would share some thoughts and concerns on my own writing. To say the least the last four months have been a learning experience, a long rode with corners you don’t see until they are right smack in your face. So what have I done about them, learned from them, its all I can do. I have been stuck on the same flippen prologue and first four chapters of my novel. Every time I learn something new, or get told on one of the writer forums I joined hey “you suck” in more words, I go back and rewrite and rewrite again. Don’t get me wrong, there are many who praise my ability, one who is accomplished but in a different category then I write (she shale remain nameless for respect) said I have a natural talent. I knew there was a lot for me to discover when I dived into the deep head first, eyes closed. I am no fool, I know not every person who reads what I have to offer will fall in love (Is it to much to ask people have manners though). I have had people who have never been published tell me my work is crap and I shouldn’t post a thing until I know what I am doing, this of course was around two months ago give or take. Granted I have learned even more since then, thanks to naysayers telling me I can’t be a writer I get more determined to prove them wrong, its part of who I am. I started writing poetry in elementary school, making comics in middle, and by the time I was 16 wanted to write my first novel. My attentions laid elsewhere so it was put on a back burner keeping worm until the day would come. My life is full, I have three boys, the oldest is 8 and can do most things on his own, but my younger two are only almost three and almost two (yes only one year and one week apart to the day). I am not complaining only stating a simple fact, they take a lot of time and care, leaving little time for my self. But I couldn’t wait any longer to begin writing, the smell’s constant wafting at my brain proved to enticing. I am a passionate person, mostly about my family and art. Writing is art, to paint a world with words is a beautiful thing. I take it just as passionately as I do my actual painting (though I have little time for that, and stopped for 5 years) I never stopped loving it. So now I take a risk, I loose my self in life some times and don’t write for days on end, but it never stops terning in my mind. So with all this I set my self to improve, to tune out those who would put me down, and focus on what I know to be truth. What else am I to do but continue on the path I have chosen with glee. I love writing, seeing my characters and style develop as I improve. I have rewritten my prologue and first chapter for the last time until my first draft is done. rewriting so much I feel as if my wheels have been spinning but I never move.

Today I will share the rewrite of my first chapter. Please as my readers be honest with me. Tell me what you think, rather you love it or hate it, or something in between. Honesty and being polite is all I ever ask. I have only been doing this for four months so I know there is more for me to learn, and that’s ok, I will fix when I finish the first draft and I know more, that is all I can do at this point without going mad.

Helix

Chapter one

My name is Sora, I was born the day the doors opened. My birthday goes unnoticed every year except by one person, my best friend Jessie. Which is fine with me. This year I turn 18, no matter what happens I know I have a job to do. Take my father’s place and lead our kind into battle for the future of all. My uncle has kept my position until now, but he will pay for his crimes.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder, spinning around to see who it is. Its Jessie. She raps her arms around my waist. I rest my chin on her head, her hair tickling my neck. She knows I’m in a bad mood. Jessie is a healer, a empath.

She could read me like an open book even if she wasn’t an empath. “Whats wrong? Tomorrow is a happy day. You should be smiling.”

“I’m thinking about tomorrow. I will be 18 finally I’ll be taking over Helix from my uncle. It should have been my father, and not so soon.”

My stomach terns as music starts to ring through the crowd, and the leader of our ‘fine’ city begins his speech. This week is the festival that is thrown every year in celebration of the day the door opened, the day our thousand year imprisonment underground ended. The day I was born. Tomorrow is the start of the celebrations. For one week the humans and the mutants will get along a little better, the crime rate will lower a little bit, and people will be seemingly happy. But at the end of the week when all the brightly colored decorations come down, and the shops prices go back up, everything and everyone will go back to normal. The hole thing is like a week long bandage that gets ripped off just to find the wound is festering underneath.

Most humans and mutants don’t get along. The humans feel like we mutants are unnatural. Like we aren’t meant to exist. Its bin speculated that somehow radiation seeped into the colony and contaminated the bloodlines, but no one really knows why we are this way. Mutants and humans alike have died because of harbored hatred. Its one of the reasons why my grate, grate, grate grandfather created Helix. To try and bring some order to the mutants, rules for us all to live by. Very little has changed, but I hope to find a way to bring us all together. Little separates us, if I can make them see that then things could start to get better. I know it will take time, but there are others on both sides willing to help me make it a reality.

Washingtoncity square is packed. We call it that because Washington is the name on the door, the only word at all on the door, now worn and barley readable. The door was everything for a long time to the people of this city. I have been told it shook the hole colony when the door finale opened. Letting out this loud wine as if the door felt pain as it unlocked and opened. A long winding and broken down staircase lead to the surface. They worked there way up reappearing it as they went. It took months to get to the top, and even then they had to chip away at the packed soil that covered the opening to the outside world. One of the few times humans and mutants worked together for a common goal.

Jessie and I are siting on the statue in the middle of the square, surrounded by humans and mutants alike. My attenuation drifts as my eyes do, over to the words carved on the base of the statue. Worn and barely visible they read “with hard work and hope in our hearts we will make it through the darkness to the light.” In smaller letters there is something written below it, unreadable words that no longer have meaning. The statue is cracked and worn, small chunks missing, patches cover its once smooth and polished surface. The statue stands tall in the shape of a willow tree. Sleeping beneath its branches is a family and their two pets. The children’s pail little faces hold no emotion, not even a glimmer of life. The cat is curled up on the little girls lap, her hand gently laid on it’s back, comforting the girl in her never ending sleep. The dog is at his masters feet. His head up and ears perked, like he is waiting for something coming out of the shadows. Almost like he could see what the future held for his family. The mother and father hold there children tight as they gaze into each others eyes. There expressions frightened and somber. A small tear trickling down the mother’s cheek forever frozen in time. Is it for the uncertain life ahead? Knowing they would never see the sun, or have wind cores their skin on a spring day again. Life would hold a hole new meaning for them underground.

Most people love the statue. “Its a cymbal of hope,” they have said. To me its like a grave marker, a reminder of how human kind drove themselves underground and shattered the world as they knew it.

“You have that look in your eyes again. The one where you drift of into space.” Jessie whispers, bringing me back to the here and now.

“Sorry Jessie.” she knows everything, I never need to explain my self around her.

“We have time for that, lets just have a good time this week. At least tonight, tomorrow night is far enough away.”

“You are right Jessie, as usual. What do you want to do when this joke is over?” Just as I say the words I am interrupted by something familiar feeling. A rough and hard signature, like its owner. “Jessie, it’s Rex.”

“I could tell by that look. Where is he?” Jessie asked me as she spins around to see if he is near. But I haven’t pinpointed him yet.

In silence and darkness I search for him. Rex is a trouble maker. A bully using his powers to pick on normal people and weaker mutants. He and I don’t get along very well to say the least. He wants me to be with him, but I don’t get it. Rex is one of my uncle’s pets, but he has trouble controlling him. He is definitely my uncle’s most powerful and unpredictable fighter.

“I found him, He is about seventy feet back and to the left of me. Give or take… In between two buildings I think… There are two other guys with him, and two girls… The girls are human Jessie. We have to stop him.” Close to her ear, as quiet as I can I whisper all this. No need to alarm any one when I can handle it quietly. Rex really should know better by now though.

“Ready?” Jessie whispers so softly I didn’t even hear her, but her lips said it for her.

“Lets go.” we walk slowly in his direction. The closer I get to him the stronger his signal. Turning the corner he can see us coming down the darkened ally way. My hands glowing hot with anger. His palms are pressed flat on the building in front of him, trapping one of the human girls. The other two are shoving the petite one back and forth, taking terns groping her body. Her clothing tares as she struggles against them. Rex looks right at me, locking his eyes to mine. A smile slowly spreads on his face as he raps one hand around the girl’s neck. I push a wave of energy in there direction, but he ignores my warning. The other two freeze and the girl stumbles back from her attackers. She just stands there awkwardly waiting for her friend. Watching with tears in her eyes. Rex squeezes tighter on the teen’s fragile flesh, his smile growing ever wider. Pounding my feet against the pavement gaining momentum I land on his back with a jolting thud.

The flesh of his chest gives and then hardens resisting the press of my legs. His skin is rough against my arm, scraping on its way around his neck, pulling his head back. I slide my right hand on to his face, letting the heat flow from every pore of my palm. Struggling to control the heat of my body, concentrating on just that one point.

“You want to tell me what you think you are doing. Let go of the girl.”

“Do you know what you are doing, you aren’t commander yet. Maybe you never will be.”

I jerk my arm that’s rapped tightly around his neck, with little effect. His rock hard exterior won’t give to my feminine stature. My blazing core pores out my body, heat rising from every inch of skin. Slowly he lets go of the girl. I won’t let go of him just yet, I’m not through with him.

“So you think you can threaten me. You don’t stand a chance against me. Now answer. what gives you the right to pick on humans?” His skin is turning red under my hot flesh. His muscles tense, jaw locking in his cry of pain.

The heat in my body is pulsing, wavering. I can’t keep it up much longer. Fire is one of the harder powers to control, it’s different for each individual. Now that I can manifest it I can learn to control it. But that’s not helping me now.

“There will be a time for this my beautiful and deadly woman, but today is not the day.” He said with such lust in is voice, a chill ran down my spine in disgust.

I propel my self off his back to stand in front of him. To close, close enough to smell his rancid breath. “I suggest you and you’re scum lackeys go back to you’re master and leave the humans alone.”

“One day sexy, you and I will see who is stronger. When that day comes you will change your mind and be with me.” I barley have time to move as he leans in to kiss me.

Planting his face in the cement wall clutching a handful of his long greasy black hair, I whisper in his ear. “Don’t think for one moment you can touch me in passion. The only way you will feel my skin is as I burn yours. I will never love you.”

I toss his head as I release him. His nose drips red from the force of my blow. Yet lust covers his face, eyes aflame with passion. As much as I hate the thought I would rather have him lust after me then want to kill me. Even if my uncle where to order him to, I don’t think he would have the hart.

The girls are long gone by this point. I saunter in Jessie’s direction, snatching up my bag I dropped when I bonded toward Rex. He is still just standing there, blood dripping to the ground. His lackeys shake as they reach to help him. The air cracks with his fist and they fall. He watches me leave in silence.

“Always impressive Sora. I can’t believe you can move like that, you have been training very hard. After you give a demonstration for the council your position will be written in stone. Not even your uncle will be able to sway there minds. Are you sure Rex hasn’t told him of your strengths?” she gives me a uneasy smile, she fears for me, for my plans.

“He may have, but I don’t think so. My uncle hasn’t shown any sines of knowing. And Rex wants me for himself, he wouldn’t jeopardize his courting me for even my uncle. It plays in our favor. After tomorrow it won’t mater any way.” Stuffing my hands in my pockets we walk out of the narrow space. My body still cooling.

It was once told that a war would come lead by a man of grate strength and evil, he will seek to destroy all humans and any mutants that dare appose him. He would spread his evil over the new world. As commander it will be me standing in his way, as soon as we find out the who, and when part. This grate evil could be Rex, but there are several other people in Helix that it could be, not to mention all the other colonies. But for now my training must continue, I have to get stronger.

“I guess we will see. Still want to go and do something Jessie?”

“Yeah. What do you have in mind?”

“Dinner maybe.” We walk off before the gathering is over.

As we walk I feel something strange, an energy signature I don’t recognize. Its out of place here. Someone I don’t know? But I know everyone in Helix, in one form or another. It’s gone, just like that, as quickly as it came without a trace. Could who ever it was hide their energy? No, no one has been able to do that with me. All I got was the person is strong, very strong. I will have to keep a look out.